Heroin is an opioid drug that is synthesized from morphine. All over the world, millions of people smoke, snort or inject heroin into their veins. Some people walk away from their “heroin experience,” while others die from overdoses.
1:7
The numbers above make a ratio; in my group of friends I’m the only one out of seven who’s not dead or dying of a transmitted disease in prison. I’m the only one left. I miss them a lot and wonder why I got recovery and they didn’t. Within four years my friends dropped like flies. In the first year we lost Mike, then one by one they went. Sometimes we would meet up and they would get some time, just so they could get that first high again. I remember talking with Mike about insanity, about doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. He said, “I think we know what is going to happen, we just don’t care”. We lived to use and used to live. However we were also desperate for help. A power greater than my self removed me from heroin addiction on June 14th of 2012. I am thankful for that everyday; it’s a miracle. I was living on the streets, what some may consider small things, are so much better than the quality of life I had before. I’m grateful for clean socks, water, food, pencils, random strangers looking me in the eyes, a home with people I love inside of it and a functioning body. I hope I never loose sight of that again. At one point my disease had taken all those things from me.
I remember the first time I tried black Tar Heroin, I was with my two friends. I had been around heroin before, and watched my friends use it, they were calm and I was curious that day. My friend held the tinfoil and began to light it from underneath. I inhaled through a cut plastic McDonalds straw. He told me to inhale and hold my breath. I inhaled and held my breath for as long as I could. Before I could even exhale, I started to feel it. I was warm, and better than anything I had every felt. I did more and 10 minutes later I threw up in my friends bathroom smiling. I wasn’t aware of anything going on around me.
My experience above is very common. Individuals who abuse heroin may exhibit a number of signs and symptoms. Look out for behavioral changes. There is hyperactivity followed by fatigue, disorientation, irresponsibility at work or school, lying, wearing long shirts and pants even during warm weather, increased sleeping, slurred speech, track marks on arms or legs, weight loss, constant runny nose, scabs or bruises. Pupils will be like pins, nausea, vomiting, severe itching, and a really big sign is when stuff starts to go missing.
My heroin addiction became a nasty habit, I couldn’t do anything without it, I hated it and I loved it. After some time smoking it seemed a waste, my attitude was always “what’s next?” Smoking turned to intravenous drug use, which turned to collapsed veins, and finding new places on my body to inject into. I used to wish I had never came across heroin, upon completing my 12 steps I saw my experience as useful to my fellows.
Here is a poem about heroin – from the opinion of heroin.
Take Me in Your Arms
(Miss Heroin)
So now, little man, you’ve grown tired of grass LSD, goofballs, cocaine and hash, and someone, pretending to be a true friend said, “I’ll introduce you to Miss Heroin.”
Well honey, before you start fooling with me, just let me inform you of how it will be.
For I will seduce you and make you my slave, I’ve sent men much stronger than you to their graves. You think you could never become a disgrace, and end up addicted to Poppy seed waste.
So you’ll start inhaling me one afternoon, you’ll take me into your arms very soon. And once I’ve entered deep down in your veins, the craving will nearly drive you insane.
You’ll swindle your mother, and just for a buck. You’ll turn into something vile and corrupt. You’ll mug and you’ll steal for my narcotic charm, and feel contentment when I’m in your arms.
The day, when you realize the monster you’ve grown, you’ll solemnly swear to leave me alone. If you think you’ve got that mystical knack, then sweetie, just try getting me off your back.
The vomit, the cramps, your gut tied in knots. The jangling nerves screaming for one more shot. The hot chills and cold sweats, withdrawal pains, can only be saved by my little white grains.
There’s no other way, and there’s no need to look, for deep down inside you know you are hooked. You’ll desperately run to the pushers and then, you’ll welcome me back to your arms once again.
And you will return just as I foretold! I know that you’ll give me your body and soul. You’ll give up your morals, your conscience, your heart. And you will be mine until, “Death Do Us Part.”
-Author Anonymous
This poem depicts how heroin addiction treated me. It wanted me dead. In the poem heroin makes you believe there is no way out. I found a way out and a new way of living, infinitely better than anything I ever could have imagined. My friends could have had the same opportunity – it was only 12 steps away.
If someone you love is suffering from addiction, don’t wait and ask for help. I may be 1:7 but I know my friends always wished for the help. Sobriety can be achieved for the addict.
Last Updated on February 21, 2024
